Page 87 of Pawns of Fate
Nicholas felt the mana flow through his veins and into his sword as the spell came to life. He launched the bolt at Lysander’s back.
“Rose, run!” he bellowed. Lysander’s knees hit the cavern floor.
But Rose didn’t run. Instead, she screamed, “Not without you!”
Damn it all. Didn’t she understand? He wasn’t York. His magic wasn’t strong enough to protect them both. Buying her enough time to run away was the best he could do.
Nicholas actuated another bolt of lightning and charged at Lysander. His sword could cut through shadows; he’d sparred with Syzman enough times to know that. He’d also sparred with Syzman enough times to know that he didn’t have a chance at actually defeating Lysander. If Rose wouldn’t run, they were both doomed.
A massive spell circle, darker than night, encircled Lysander, and blackness erupted around him.
Shit. His sword couldn’t cut throughthat.
Before the wave engulfed him, Nicholas looked over at Rose, who was still rooted to the spot, though her aura was glowing now. Why, why, why wouldn’t she just run?
“Rose! Go!” he shouted. Desperation clung to his throat, and his chest tightened painfully. Then the darkness overpowered him, and the world turned black.
ROSE
“Rose, run!” Nicholas’svoice was a yell of desperation. But how could he ask that of her? Abandon him? Now? That was the one thing she couldn’t do.
“Not without you!”
A nightmarish spell circle appeared at Lysander’s feet, leaking pure darkness. Rose’s heart threatened to beat out of her chest, and all of the blood in her head rushed to her limbs as every fiber of her being urged her to flee. But she couldn’t run. If she left Nicholas now, she’d never see her husband again.
Why, why, why did she have to be so useless, so weak? She escaped Hector’s cruel grasp only to fall into Lysander’s pit of despair. A political pawn—now an experimental one. And for what? Her useless aura. Nicholas thought his lightning magic was weak, but at least he’d managed to fell Lysander for a moment. All Rose could do was make the insane mage even stronger.
Rose glanced down at her arm and realized the enhancement spell was still active. A mad idea crossed her mind.
She didn’t have to increaseLysander’smana flow. She looked over at Nicholas. The shadows were already engulfing him, smothering him. There was no time. If she didn’t do this now, Lysander would kill him.
Rose stifled the panic, the feral terror that coursed through her body. She had to access the aural plane, had to calm the storm of desperation that raged through her body. She needed something to focus on. She thought of Nicholas—of how her life had changed since meeting him. She thought about all her friends and family in Onanish—Ava, Lyla, Betty, the marquess, even York and Syzman. She thought about the pleasant nights she’d enjoyed with Nicholas, thought about how they were so connected now that even their auras had mixed, and there it was. The physical plane melted away, and Rose found her consciousness fully aware of the aural plane.
For once, the connection was so strong that it was hard to stay tethered to the physical plane. She could hear Nicholas yell, but it sounded like he was underwater.
Ropes of obsidian mana knotted around Lysander and Nicholas, threatening to overwhelm them both.
“You came back.”
No, no. Rose didn’t have time to resist druid magic right now. She needed to help Nicholas. Rose ignored the voice and made sure not to look at its source.
“Join us. Please, Rose.”
The voice was so clear, so welcoming, so persistent. But she couldn’t give in. She had to find the threads of Nicholas’s mana and manipulate them, somehow.
“Leave me alone!” Rose shouted. The ball of light shuddered. Shit. Now she had to contend with angry druid magic, too.
“What’s wrong, Rose?”
“He’s dying, my husband is dying! And I have to help him.” Her voice came out sharper than intended. She dared a glance at the druid spirit. It looked dejected, light shining less brightly than it had yesterday. Had she hurt its feelings?
Her consciousness took a step toward Nicholas, but it felt like walking against a windstorm. She was moving too slowly. Frustration bubbled inside her, threatening to untether her. No, no, no. She didn’t have time for this!
The light shuddered again, and the world froze. Lysander, his magic, even her husband. Nothing moved but Rose and the ball of light.
“You love him?”
“Very much.” Rose walked to him, suddenly uninhibited by the forces that slowed her earlier. She dared another glance at the spirit. It was shining more brightly now, bouncing slightly, as if the mention of love had improved its mood.
